A Simple Breeze
by HPOwlLover24
Summary: Jean's been alone for all of his life, his own parents wanted nothing to do with him, and he was tired of it. He wanted something different, something new. And it seems that his answer came flying through his kitchen door.
1. Chapter 1

**So, as promised, here is the fic that I wrote for my friend on her birthday. Check out the end for more notes! And her art for it! catofblue~tumblr~com/post/110287509084/soo-about-a-month-ago-my-friend-aramirez24-wrote (~ is a period because I don't know how to do a link in the notes)**

* * *

The rain pounded against the side of the house and the wind howled outside. I grunted to myself as the wind seemed to push the huge empty house. It creaked and made the giant mansion seem creepier than it actually was.

"Why the fuck would they get this big ass house and never use it?" I said to no one as I walked down the long ass hallway to the kitchen.

I, Jean Kirschstein, would be the only teen home alone during the Christmas and New Years holiday. Basically under house arrest, though that was my own fault.

I wasn't exactly a nice guy, I tended to land myself in detention all the time because of my smart ass mouth and the fact that I hated my boarding school. My parents were never home, but, when they were, I was always shut up in my room because I was, quote, _grounded._

So while my parents were out at a fancy, dress up, Christmas party, I was at home, alone, with a loud as fuck storm brewing outside, with nothing to do but eat my own weight in food and play video games before the power went out.

I twirled the flashlight in my hand carefully, looking at all the ugly ass portraits of past family members that seemed to be glaring down at me.

That was the other problem. I hated, really _loathed,_ my family legacy. Every chance I got, I spoke out against it, rebelled in any way I could. I hated the shit boarding school I went to, so I aimed for detention all the time. I hated speaking properly, so I tended to cuss every other fucking word. I hated looking stuffy, so I wore clothes I shouldn't. I had on black skinny jeans that were ripped and black combat boots that clunked a bit when I walked. I wore nothing but band t-shirts, my favorites being _My Chemical Romance _and _Fall Out Boy._ I even went to the extent to get a few piercings, one on my right eyebrow and one in my left ear paired with a cuff. I smirked at the memory of my parents freaking out about that. Priceless.

I wanted something different, a life that wasn't laid out for me and planned out every step I took. I wished that I had been born with a plastic spoon feeding me instead of a silver one forcing it's way into my mouth.

The thunder cracked outside and I jumped at the window shaking beside me. "That's some fucking storm," I muttered.

I reached the kitchen right before the power went out.

Groaning, I clicked on the flashlight, "Fucking great! What is the fucking point of having a mansion and not having a damn generator connected to the shitty power outlet?" If I had the right tools, I would have created a small one to connect to my room. As it was, my parents had confiscated my garage privileges, locking it up and throwing away the key.

I'd get back in there eventually, but I hadn't developed a way in yet.

Maybe there was a way to get the power back on?

I grunted again and made my way to the door that led outside. I glanced out the window, though for what reason, I had no fucking clue. It was dark as shit because of the storm and I couldn't see a foot in front of me even with the flashlight in my hand. Maybe I could get to the circuit breaker and change the flow of electricity to just my room, that may be enough to power it back up.

I threw open the door, or really only opened it as the wind forced it open, and fell back from a heavy weight being thrown on me.

"Hey, what the fu-"

I was silenced as something fell against my mouth, actually my entire face, practically smothering me as I landed hard on the floor of the kitchen. My eyes were wide open and all I could see was that someone had fallen on top of me and that person had freckles. Why were they on fucking top of me?

"Asshole, get the hell off of me!" I pushed at the person and tried to wiggle my way out from under them. The other person didn't move, all they did was groan in what seemed to be pain.

I stood up and peeked outside, but the storm seemed to grow larger, though the wind finally did stop. I couldn't see anyone near the porch, and the security gate was pretty far away. So how the hell did this person wind up here?

I picked up the flashlight that had rolled across the floor and shined it on the stranger.

It was a man, or a boy, he looked like he was older than me, and he had freckles everywhere. And, for some reason, I couldn't take my eyes away from his face. I found myself studying the curve of his lips and the adorable, button nose, and the soft, black hair that framed that gorgeous face.

Those lips parted and his eyes scrunched up in pain as the man groaned again.

I went to the door and closed it, locking it and closing the blinds. Well, the best thing I could do right now would be to help him, right?

Clicking off the flashlight, I bent down and wrapped my arm around the guy's waist and threw his arm around my neck. "Shit, what the fuck do you eat man?" I groaned, moving out of the kitchen and back to my room in the dark with only the flashing lightning as my light.

I, huffing as I dragged the dead weight to my room, tried to ignore what was going through my mind. Or lack of.

My palms were sweating and my heart was beating fast and I couldn't think straight. I didn't understand why I wanted nothing more than to take care of this guy and make sure he was alright. What was wrong with me?

When I finally laid the man down on my bed, the lights came back on, and the first thing I did was jump back and yell in fright.

This guy had _fucking wings._

"Holy shit!" I scrambled back, knocking myself into my desk, a few of my tools falling to the ground. My hand reached behind me and I latched onto a stapler. Fuck load of good that would do me. But nonetheless I wielded it in front of me like a dangerous weapon.

The man didn't move.

I tried to calm down; I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. When I opened them, the man still hadn't moved.

His wings did twitch though; they captured my attention and it was then I realized that one was oddly bent. I walked forward slowly, as if the stranger was going to wake up at any moment and fucking kill me or some shit. I tried to slow my breathing down again when my heart started beating in my ears.

The wings on this mystery man were black as night, as black as his hair actually. They were about the size of half of his body and they looked a lot like how angel wings are always drawn. When I reached out to touch them, I found them soft to the touch and they twitched under my fingertips.

I found myself smiling, something I never did. Here I was, standing beside a stranger in my bed, a guy with fucking wings, and I was smiling more than I had in the past year. What was going on?

I didn't have time to answer. Maybe I had gotten too close when I was inspecting those strange, gorgeous wings. I let out a shallow breath and the guy's eyes snapped open.

Chocolate brown eyes blinked rapidly as they swiveled every which direction as the guy tried to gather where he was. When his eyes finally landed on me, they widened and he jumped up, backing himself up against the headboard.

It was only then that I finally took in the rest of his body. He was, wow, he was fucking _hot._ Was this guy all gorgeous? He had a pair of deep blue jeans and a white t-shirt that contrasted greatly with his black wings. There were no shoes or socks on his feet and he had nothing else on as far as jewelry. But the guy looked as if he stepped right out of a catalog magazine.

He stared at me and I met his gaze and stared right back at him. Soon, the stranger dropped his gaze, face flushing over the thousands of freckles on his perfect face. "Where am I?"

I grunted, "My room. You fell on me earlier and I'm guessing one of your wings are broken."

The winged stranger turned his head slightly and turned his gaze back to me. "Ro…room? You mean this is where you reside?"

"Uh…yeah? That's pretty much the definition of a room, man." I scratched my neck and realized I was still holding the stapler. I set it down, better get straight to business then. "What's your name man?"

He didn't waste any time either. "I am Marco, spirit of the wind." His eyes widened and darted in every direction, "My brothers! I must attend to them!" He jumped off my bed only to hiss in pain and fall back down.

I rushed forward and put my hands on his shoulders, "What? Are you bat shit crazy? You can't go anywhere like this! Your damn wing is broken."

Marco turned and actually inspected his wing; he reached out and brushed a finger against it, hissing again when he came in contact with the part that must hurt the most. "It appears you are right."

I rolled my eyes, "Of fucking course. I know what I'm talking about, you know." I turned and walked the length of my room to the wall cabinet I had. I pulled out some gauze and medical tape I kept with the other medical supplies I had for myself. Inventing shit can be pretty dangerous. "I can tape it up if you want. That way it can set properly."

"There is no need to fret, mortal. I only need sustenance and rest to allow the healing process to commence." Marco's wing twitched and he groaned again, his eyes fluttering a little.

I swore, by the end of the night, I was going to have thrown something. This guy was either really stupid or hoping for a fucking miracle to happen. "Let me do what I know, alright? If you don't set that wing, it's going to fuck itself up, even with you're 'healing process' doing it's thing."

Marco didn't move as I approached him, medical tape ready. He allowed me to set his wing, gripping the sheets until his knuckles turned white. I ignored my flipping stomach as I realized how close I was to the guy, focusing instead on setting the twitching wing in front of me.

"Tell me mortal, how did I come to your abode?"

"Abode? What age are we in, man?" I grinned and looked up to see him staring forward, gazing at the tools on my desk. I sighed, "I don't have a fucking clue. I was hoping you could tell me what was going on. I mean it's not every day I meet a guy with fucking wings."

Marco chuckled, "But of course, how could I allow that to slip my mind. Though I am to believe I am the only spirit with wings, mortal. It would be meaningless for my brothers to have any."

I rose an eyebrow, wrapping the tape around the length of his wing. "Mortal? You know I do have a name."

"Which you have not yet shared with me. I shall call you by your chosen name should you so ask it."

I grunted again, sassy little shit, "Well, I ask that you call me Jean."

Marco turned and looked at me, his brown eyes meeting my amber ones. I just about melted at the warmth I found there. This guy was just a fucking softie. "Jean. I shall respect your wishes henceforth."

I shook my head, my two-toned hair shaking atop my head, "Why the hell are you talking like that?"

"Do you have a problem with my speech? I do not wish you discomfort." Marco's brow furrowed as he frowned. What the hell was with this guy?

I smirked, "No your speech is…cool. I just want to know why?"

Marco shivered as I stepped away from his wing, bandaged and wrapped against his body. "This is the speech I have always uttered, I suppose. It is how we speak where I am from."

"Mhm, and where is that exactly?" I asked, biting my lip. I wouldn't have really believed a word this guy said, but his wings were real enough. No amount of engineering could create something like those.

But he ignored my question. Instead, he stared at me. I shuffled under his gaze. I was used to being stared at; everyone else did it. I've been glared at, stared at, and blinked at. But this was different. Marco was staring at me as if he was studying me.

"Come forth, mortal, if you will. I wish you to understand more of me."

I didn't hesitate, which would have probably struck others as odd. "Anything I want to know?" I asked, sitting beside him on my bed.

He leaned against my headboard, shifting himself so he had no pressure on his wing. His half-lidded eyes turned my way and I felt my heart stutter in my chest. I reached forward and eased a pillow behind him, trying to make him more comfortable. He smiled and nodded, "Anything you wish."

I scratched my chin, looking at him intently. I was curious about everything, don't get me wrong, but why was he so willing to share shit with me? A fucking stranger. "Okay, so you said you're a spirit? As in you're part of some ancient and dead religion or mythology or some shit?"

Marco chuckled, shaking his head. He opened his hand in front of me and a small tornado appeared in it. I stared, completely fascinated, until he closed his hand and it disappeared. "My brothers and I are simply spirits of the natural world, tied in with Mother Earth and all her beings."

"Brothers?"

Marco nodded, "Yes, brothers. We are each a spirit, protector, caregiver, for Mother Earth. Each of us have a responsibility to Earth and her beings. We care for these beings and protect the Mother." He smiled softly, looking out the window into the dark night.

I shifted closer to him, "You said you're all spirits of something, like what?"

"Well," he picked a feather from his uninjured wing, pushing it away from us. I watched it fly across the room and back into his hand like nothing. "I am the spirit of the wind. My brothers, as there are many of us, all travel the world and perform our duties. Spirits for animals, mammals and birds and reptiles and so forth, spirits for plants, spirits for storms and even spirits for mortals. We each work together to maintain a healthy and happy Mother."

I glanced outside the window, noticing that the storm was pretty much still going on, but there was no wind and something seemed off to how it was before.

Marco sighed softly, I looked back to him as he began to play with the feather in his hand, "It appears as if my brothers have stopped, thankfully. I do not know how much more fighting I could have endured."

"The storm?" I looked at him in disbelief, "That was your fucking brothers?"

He nodded.

I huffed, in disbelief. Well, to think, the fucking world is run by a bunch of angry, psychotic, immortal spirits. That puts a few things into a bit of perspective. "Do you…uh, visit mortals often?" I couldn't help but ask the one question I knew I shouldn't have. Am I a bit of a masochist? Yeah, you could probably say that.

"When our paths cross, yes. Whether it is an accident that befalls us, or we establish relationships, we tend to always entangle our own lines with mortals'. It may be by choice or chance of fate, but it is inevitable." Marco looked at me and leaned forward. He tucked the feather behind my ear, his fingertips sliding down the side of my face and to my chin. "I wish to learn of you, Jean," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and a little hoarse from talking so much.

I busied myself by stretching the blankets across him, tucking him in slightly as he slipped further and further into my bed, "You can learn about me tomorrow. Right now you need to rest, okay?"

Marco nodded slowly, his eyes falling close, "Yes, I shall learn more of you tomorrow, Jean."

He instantly fell into a deep slumber. He must have been in more pain than I originally thought. I sighed and walked over to the spare bed my parents placed in my room, picking up my few week old cell phone and a few tools.

In an attempt to distract myself, I tore open the phone and begin where I left off yesterday. I pulled some wires out of my pocket and began to attach them to the cell phone's microchip.

So, yeah, people with wings apparently exist. Or at least one does. I glanced over at Marco, still fast asleep with one wing stretched out, just like my arm would when I was sleeping and hang off the bed. I huffed. But he had brothers, so there had to be something there right?

I pulled the feather out and looked at it, my face growing hot again. Fuck.

I tried to ignore my growing anxiety and put all my thought into the phone and it worked. I worked until I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open and I fell into a dreamless sleep, the feather on the bed beside me.

* * *

There was a small pressure against my face, pushing against my cheek.

I groaned, wiping my hand across my face and turning a bit. Something poked me slightly in the side, but I ignored it and tried to fall back to sleep, smacking my lips.

The pressure was at my face again and I grunted, "Eh, what do you want, mother?"

There was a low chuckle, "I would not consider myself your birth giver, Jean."

My eyes shot open and I was looking right into a pair of brown eyes and a bunch a freckles.

"Ah!" I jumped up, my tools and, what used to be, cell phone bouncing along the bed as I moved back to the wall. I yanked the blankets up to cover my shirtless torso, suddenly fucking embarrassed at my state right now. I was sure my hair was a mess, the blonde half probably looked like shit. My state of clothes was probably fucking ridiculous: I had no shirt on, trying to sleep comfortably last night, but still had my ripped jeans on and my boots. I just hoped I didn't drool last night.

Marco backed up, "Oh, my apologizes, I should have not been so rude. Did I disturb you?"

I rubbed my face, the blanket slipping from my grasp. "Uh…no. I'm alright, no worries dude. What time is it?"

Marco sighed, content, "It is just after sunrise, my sweet." He looked over his shoulder, towards the window. I noticed the tape was still on his wing, but hung loosely.

"How's the wing?"

Marco glanced at his wing, ruffling his other one, "I believe the healing process has been completed. If you could remove these dressings, I would be grateful."

I nodded, standing up, "Yeah, sure thing."

Marco watched me get out of bed, his eyes following my every movement as I walked towards him. "What?" I couldn't help but sound a bit snippy, but he was staring at me.

"I apologize again. I just have not seen such a beautiful mortal before." Marco continued staring at me as I felt a huge fucking blush coming on.

I decided not to answer him and work on getting the medical tape off of his wing. I stood directly behind him so I didn't have to feel his eyes on me, but I couldn't help the blush or my fingers brushing against his feathers, which caused the wing to twitch and Marco to shiver. My hands worked on their own, extracting the tape without pulling any of Marco's feathers out, allowing my mind to wander onto the gorgeous man in front of me. "So how old are you?" I heard myself asking.

Marco's hand scratched the underside of his chin. "In appearance, I choose to look as old as one of your young adults do. I do not know how old exactly, I came across a frozen picture in the sky with a man on it in these clothes."

"A frozen picture in the sky?" I furrowed my brow and glanced up at him before looking back down at his wing.

"Yes, it was rather large and the shape of a…of that." He pointed in front of him to a picture frame across the room.

"A rectangle?" I laughed, "Oh! You saw a billboard ad." I looked down at the jeans he was wearing, not noticing the definition of his ass at all, nope, and grinned. "Must have been a Calvin Klein ad, judging by your jeans."

"Then I must thank this Calvin Klein mortal, because these dressings are quite comfortable."

I laughed again, clutching my stomach as I tried to stop myself.

Marco looked back at me in confusion, his other wing twitching, but a smile on his face, "What is so humorous?"

I cleared my throat, a large smile still on my face as I went back to removing the tape from his wing. How much did I even put on here? "I'll tell you later. Back to what we were talking about, how old are ya?"

Marco hummed, "A few thousand years. I am not sure, I no longer count."

I choked, a few _thousand_ years? I bit my lip and tore off the last of the tape, wrapping it up into a ball, "There you go man, good as new."

Marco looked back at me instead of his wing. "Why do you frown? It does not suit such a beautiful face."

I coughed and turned my back on him, moving to my closet to grab a shirt. I pulled it over, running my fingers through my hair and turning back to Marco, who was staring at me. "Did you want food or what?"

"Sustenance would be ideal for my healing process to complete itself," Marco said, finally turning around to look at his wing. He gently ran a finger over the upper curve of it, gingerly prodding it to test its integrity.

I huffed, grinning, "Well, come on then, I'll show you to the kitchen."

"Kitchen?"

I laughed, "Yeah, come on, big boy."

The walk to the kitchen was a short one, but Marco managed to ask so many personal questions, family, friends, interests, very _specific _interests, and so many other things. It was a little weird, but I guess that was because I hadn't spoken to someone for this long without them asking for some amount of money. I didn't have friends, I knew people and paid them to listen, sad as it fucking was.

But Marco took great interest in everything, and continued asking me questions even while I made us both omelets. "So you do not like it here?"

I flipped the egg in the pan, "I never said that."

Marco chuckled, coming up to stand beside me, "You can say so many things in so few words. I could hear you very clearly, my sweet."

I tried to ignore the way he said that and how it made me feel. This was stupid. He was a broken spirit, I was a mortal, nothing was going to happen.

I handed him the plate and a fork, "Here, go eat."

"You do not need to push me away, inamorato." Nonetheless, he walked back to the table and sat down digging into his food.

He finished before I could sit down and looked at me with a wide smile, "That was delightful! Another!" He pushed his plate at me and looked at it as if another omelet would magically appear.

I laughed at his expression and ate a little more of my own before standing again. "I'll make a few more, sound good?"

I ended up making him five more and he drank about four cups of coffee before he finally felt full. I watched him with amusement as he finished his last cup and leaned back, his wings stretching out behind him. "It is as if I have exhausted myself by fueling myself."

I laughed again and stood up, grabbing his arm to pull him up also. Marco leaned on me heavily, his arm around my waist as I pulled him back to my room. With the added food in his stomach, Marco was a lot heavier than the dead weight he was last night, which is really saying something.

"You could walk to the room, too, you know," I grunted as I continued to drag him.

Marco looked down at his feet, then at me, "Could I?" He put his feet down on the ground, barely holding himself up as he leaned on me. "It appears as if my limbs will not listen to me."

"Are you drunk?" I asked. I could see my open door just ahead of us. Maybe he just needs to sleep it off, "Have you ever had fucking coffee before?"

"I truly enjoyed that beverage. I hope to have it again soon." Marco licked his lips and looked at me again. "Will you be the one to serve me?"

I don't really fucking understand why that made my face flush, maybe it was the way he leaned into me and whispered it. Or maybe it was because I could suddenly feel all of Marco's body that was pressed into my side and I could feel the heat from him, radiating off of him in layers.

I didn't answer him, not wanting to embarrass myself further. We walked into my bedroom and I kicked the door shut behind me before making my way over to my bed. "Alright, you need to sleep some more, so just chill."

Marco giggled, "Chill? I am not cold at the moment."

He fell onto my bed and pulled me down with him, and I gasped as I went down. "What the- Marco, dude, let go."

"But you are the reason I am so warm, inamorato. I do not wish to release you." Marco nuzzled his face into the back of my neck, his wings wrapping around us in a small cocoon of warmth.

I tried to slow my breathing and I reached for a remote on my bedside table. Pointing it at the door, I hit a series of buttons that activated the locks on it. Well, at least I know my parents won't kill me. Wings? Who cares? Their son in bed with another man, all hell breaks loose.

Before I knew it, Marco's breathing evened out behind me, ghosting over the back of my neck and making the little hairs I had stand up straight. His arms tightened around my waist and his wings tightened around us. It was comfortable and warm and I couldn't help but relax, it was nice.

I don't know when I did, but I drifted off to sleep, probably because the freckled flyer woke me up at fucking sunrise.

I slowly opened my eyes, looking into deep chocolate ones. I cleared my throat and looked around, finally realizing that I was still in my room with dark wings wrapped around me. I must have turned over sometime because I was now facing Marco, who was smiling down at me, one arm wrapped around my waist as his other hand played with the longer half of my hair.

"Hey," I murmured, unconsciously moving closer to him.

Marco smiled, his hand still sliding through my hair, "Good afternoon, my sweet. Is your energy restored?"

I looked down to hide my face, noticing that our legs were tangled with each other. "Yeah, I'm feeling better. How's the wing?"

"Healthier, I may be able to return later." Marco's arms tightened around me, "I need to request something of you, Jean. And you must be honest with me. It is imperative."

I picked up my head, looking up at him, noticing how much his freckles popped and how bright his eyes seemed. My heart was beating erratically in my chest, loud in my ears and I could feel it in my hands. "What is it?"

"I must know if you wish to leave with me."

My hands gripped the white shirt he was wearing, was he…what the fuck?

"Are you shitting me?" I couldn't contain my amazement. Did- Marco…what?

Marco chuckled, his arms tightening around me, "By your tone, I am assuming you are surprised. Do you wish me to clarify?"

"No, I understand you. I mean, how are you going to ask me to leave with you when I barely know you?" I gripped his shirt tighter, but I could feel myself pushing away from him. What the fuck did he think he was doing? "Do you think you could just fucking whisk me away because you're drop dead gorgeous and immortal and fucking everything I'm looking for in my shit life?" I pushed away harder, his arms releasing me as his wings fluttering open.

I fell out of bed, walking away from him and over to my desk, grabbing a wire and twisting it in my hands.

"My apologies, I believed…well, that is I-"

I turned on him, "You fucking believed that I would just up and leave because you bat those long lashes at me?" My heart seized in my chest as I kept yelling. "Not everyone can fucking leave when they want to! We don't all live forever."

I turned around again, gripping the edge of my desk. I refused to let the tears fall from my eyes. There was no way that I was going to cry right now, not with Marco right behind me.

A loud slam had me turn around. My window was wide open and Marco was nowhere in sight. I could feel the anger and hurt building inside me, "Right! Fucking leave when you don't get your god damn way. I'm used to it! My parents do it all the fucking time." I stomped to my window, locking it shut as the wind began to pick up.

I closed all the curtains, enveloping the room in darkness, "Just another fucker leaving me to myself. I get it, I'm used to it."

I walked over to my bed, about to throw myself on it, when I noticed something black in the middle of it. A feather.

"What the EVER LOVING FUCK!" I picked up the nearest thing, which happened to be the stapler from the night before, and threw it across the room.

It hit the picture frame with my parents and I in it, pretending to be a happy family.

I glared at the picture. I hated being here; I hated being a part of this family that hated having me in it. Why didn't I leave with him?

He left me. He left me here and didn't even say good-bye. So much like my parents and so-called friends. They always leave me when I don't give them what they want.

They never stay for me.

* * *

Break continued to be uneventful. I stayed in my room most of the time, unwilling to leave unless I was starving and I knew my parents weren't in the house. I didn't want to see them. I didn't go outside either. I didn't want something weird to happen, like getting struck by another random spirit. Crazy as it fucking sounded, Marco was my first and I was determined to make him my last.

Thankfully, no one bothered me. My parents knew by now that I never wanted to go to their parties. I wouldn't be surprised if they even knew I existed, I hadn't heard from them during break. They didn't even walk by room to _pretend_ to be a proper family.

The people I knew from school didn't call me either, not even to ask for money, which I was a little happy for.

I never opened the curtains, so I had no fucking clue what time it was when I stopped sleeping or stopped working. I also never touched my bed; the feather was still in the middle of it. Instead, I slept in the spare one in my room.

I tried to bury my feelings with inventing or sleep. But, sometimes my mind wandered while I worked on rudimentary things and dreams can't be fucking controlled sometimes.

I thought of Marco a lot, probably more than I should have, but I couldn't help it. The way he treated me, I mean. No one cared about me like that, no fucking person I knew cared about me the way he seemed to. It's hard to fucking forget a person like that, immortal spirit or not.

It wasn't the immortal shit I cared about. Yeah, he could live forever and I couldn't. What mattered was…well, him. In general, I mean. I thought about his hair, his freckles, his brown eyes, his black wings. I thought about his ridiculous speech and cute ignorance. I thought about how much he cared about me and his brothers. And I often found myself wondering what he was doing while I was stuck in this hellhole and trying to break my cell phone apart.

I also Googled what inamorato meant. That was pretty much a fucking heart-melter.

How the hell did I get so wrapped up in this guy, I'll never fucking understand. But, despite probably never seeing him again, I was happy when I thought of him. He made me smile and laugh more in two days than I had in two years. That was a fucking miracle in itself.

So, instead of wallowing in self-pity, I thought about the things that made me smile and decided to go from there. I got to taste happiness, why not try to let my taste buds remember?

Before I knew it, I could hear fireworks every few minutes. "It must be new years soon," I whispered to myself, tugging at the wire in front of me with a pair of pliers. "Another start of the year to myself. What else is fucking new?"

There was a tap from somewhere in my room. I ignored it, drowning it out with the sounds of fireworks and my music. Maybe it was my parents and they needed me to make an appearance somewhere. As if that shit was going to fly.

I went back to working with taking the cell phone apart and implanting new parts in it, ignoring everything around me and turning the volume of my music up, Vic Fuentes blaring from my speakers.

Something touched my shoulders and I jumped up, falling out of my chair in the process. "What the ever loving fuck?"

I looked up and noticed someone else was standing in my room. Marco.

"My apologies, I did not mean to startle you." He bent to help me up.

I knocked his hand away, suddenly self-conscious of my appearance. I was wearing my rattiest t-shirt, it had no sleeves because I cut them off in anger a few days ago, and it had holes in it from burning myself earlier. Though I had showered earlier, my hair wasn't styled at all, and probably looked crazy because I had continuously ran my hand through it. My eyes were probably bright from working so long and the only thing that looked alright were probably my piercings. Not exactly a comforting thought.

I got up, looking toward the window that was open, curtains also opened. "Why are you here?"

Marco looked at me and then to his hands. "I came for you."

My eyes narrowed at him as I took a step back. "Oh, really? You came back, expecting me to just fall into your fucking arms because you're in front of me? I'm not that fucking easy, man."

"I understand this, Jean. But you are unhappy and I do not want you to be."

I glared at him this time, my combat boot tapping against the carpeted floor. "Unhappy? Un-fucking-happy? Well, let's see how that could possibly be. Why could I possibly be unhappy at the moment? Hmm…Well, my parents have ignored me since I got home, forgetting I exist. Not that I can really complain, because I really hate being part of this family, more than I hate One Direction. I've been completely alone for the space of two weeks, with nothing but my work, which can get really shitty at times, just look at the burns in my shirt. This was my favorite fucking shirt. And to top it all off, I met a fucking immortal spirit, and fell in god damn love with him because he's all I can fucking think about, but he fucking left me!"

I froze, realizing what I said. "Shit," I murmured. I turned away from Marco's idiotic, grinning face. I stared at the other window, which Marco must have blown open when he flew in. The sun had obviously set and I could see a few fireworks cracking in the distance.

"I know I have wronged you, inamorato, but I needed to let you understand how important you are to me. How important I may be to you." I heard him moving, but I didn't turn around. He may just be moving to the window to leave again, wouldn't fucking surprise me.

I grunted, "And you leaving shows how important I am to you? And I thought I was fucking crazy."

There was a light pressure on my shoulder and he turned me around to face him. I dropped my gaze; I didn't want to look into those chocolate brown eyes. I wouldn't be able to hold onto my anger if I did. I could barely see his freckles and they were making me slip. "You must find who you are first before I can take you with me, inamorato. Otherwise it would not be possible for you and I to be together," he whispered. "And I never left. I have been nearby all this time, waiting for the proper moment to come to you."

I could feel tears of anger at my eyes as they snapped up to meet his warm gaze. "You fucking crazy? I can't just drop everything and leave with you Marco. It's not…possible," my voice cracked at the end, and my eyes dropped again.

Marco's hand came up to take my chin in his hand and he made me look at him. "Jean, inamorato, please do not cry. You are unhappy because you do not wish to live this mundane life, and I understand that. So please."

His other arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me closer. I could practically smell the wind on him, cool and refreshing. I looked up at him, his warm brown eyes meeting my wet amber ones, and realized he was right. I knew I hated my family and living here, that I wanted to leave this place more than anything. And, this, this was my chance. I could leave with Marco and be happy forever, right?

I didn't pull away, but I didn't move closer either, "You know it's not natural for people to move this fast in the mortal world." My heart was going to explode in my chest. I could practically hear the ticking for the time bomb.

He grinned, moving closer to me, his wings expanding to full length before encircling us both, "When one is immortal for such a long time, one understands what to do to ensure that they will be happy for eternity. You see, it is hard for immortals to shift their beliefs so easily, yet you, my inamorato, caused my heart to move and dance and sing more than I could ever hope for. My entire being belongs to you, which is why I bestowed my feathers to you."

I swallowed loudly, my nerves causing my stomach to do flips and begin dancing. "And how do I, uh, fit into this eternity?"

"By accompanying me through it, living by my side, becoming immortal," he whispered.

Marco was only a few centimeters from me and I couldn't breathe. He must be doing something to the air, wind whatever, because my hair and his seemed to be dancing on top of our heads. I didn't move, my hands were on his chest, resting against his white shirt loosely. His arms were around my waist, pulling me closer and closer. I didn't want to move in first, I wasn't strong enough for that. But Marco had enough strength for both of us it seemed.

He pressed his lips against mine, gentle just like a spring breeze that brushed against you in the middle of April. My brain short circuited and no amount of wires or tools that I had would fix it. My hands crawled up and around his neck, our bodies coming in contact with each other and I could feel all of his warmth against me.

I pulled away from him, breathing in deeply to catch my breath that he fucking stole, and couldn't help the smirk that crossed my face. "So when do we leave?"

The smile that broke across his freckled features was really something else, an image that would stick with me throughout my eternity. "Soon, but first, let us fly. It is a new year after all. I must show you my world now that you are to be a permanent part of it."

Before I could say no, he picked me up fucking bridal style and jumped out the window. His wings spread to an enormous length and we took off, the wind moving around us to take us higher.

I turned to look at him, the wind blowing through his dark hair and feathers. He held me close with one arm and, with his other arm, reached over to pull another feather from his recently healed wing. He stuck it behind my left ear, mixing it in with my blonde hair. I gave him a look when it surprisingly stayed, "What-?"

Marco smiled sheepishly, blinking at me adorably with his hopeful chocolate eyes, "I believe this would be the equivalent of a band around your finger?" He wrapped his arms around me, stopping midflight, his wings beating heavily while we hovered in the sky. "It is a sign to say I am yours and, because it did not fall while being beaten against the wind, you are mine."

I grinned, "Damn straight." I leaned forward, happiness and strength and love flowing through me as I pressed my lips against his, kissing him with a newfound passion that made me tingle all the way to my toes in my black combat boots.

I pulled away as fireworks cracked in the distance, signaling the start of a new year.

My New Year's started with a carefree laugh and an immortal love carrying me through a starry night.

* * *

**I hoped you enjoyed that! Just so you guys know, on my writing tumblr (hpowllover24~tumblr~com) I will be posting Headcannons for my friend as a continued gift/thing (because she has so many questions about this AU!). I've already got a few written out and will be posting them soon.**

**On another note, happy belated birthday to you sweetie~ Though I know it's almost been a month since then, but I'm happy you liked this idea so much and want to know more of it. I really love writing for you! Hehe I loke you~**

**Look for more drabbles of this AU because it's happening.**


	2. Author's Note

So hey everyone! This is not a new chapter or anything just want to let you guys know something because, for some reason, does not allow response to guest comments. And it's better to just get it all out of the way now!

Down to business. Right now I don't have any sequels planned for this story. This long one-shot was just something my friend wanted for her birthday! But, because we are both JeanMarco dorks, I have written Headcanons for this AU and I have _a lot _more planned out. All of them are pretty much drabbles, some may be longer than others, and they're all really short. I've decided that I am going to be posting them under "A Simple Breeze Headcanons" so that we don't get them confused with this. And I have to group them to post or I'd be posting soooooo many chapters. There's a lot of stuff going on in my life right now and I just can't find much time to write like I want, let alone post them all separately. But they're all going to be cute and fluffy and dorky, very few sad ones. They were really written with the idea to cheer my friend up because she enjoyed the AU so much. And it's work so, after asking her, it's time to begin sharing!

But, I do post them on my writing tumblr individually! Each headcanon will be tagged as #Fantasy HCs so they can be found easily there. My tumblr is hpowllover24 dot tumblr dot com. Haha, and guys you don't have to follow me, just know that that's where I'll post them (I'll also be posting other drabbles and stuff there so that's why you don't have to give me a follow haha).

But guys…really. Y'all's responses have made me so happy for this AU. I thought it would literally just be a one time thing, but nope. You guys and my friend want more and so I'll give you more! I love my fantasy AU and I'm going to have so much fun with this. Keep an eye out for more HCs. I'll be posting them every now and then here!


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